


Handful

by Tashilover



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Genderfuck, Girl!Stiles, Small Breasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles never cared that she had tiny breasts. Everyone else did, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles

Stiles only once tried to wear a bra. Back in seventh grade, when all the girls were slowly filling out their bodies, Stiles had snatched one of her mother's bras, stuffed it with socks, and went to school like that.

The only one who noticed was Scott. With his cheeks red, he coughed and muttered, "Um... Stiles... your, um,  _sock_  is hanging out."

Stiles didn't know at what point it happened, but she looked down and indeed, one of her breasts had deflated and a purple sock hanged out over her shirt. Taking that as a sign, Stiles took off the bra and spent the rest of the day playing sock puppets with Scott.

After that, she more or less stop expecting for her breasts to grow. She considered this a victory, knowing she would never have to spend a ludicrous amount of money just for a nice satiny bra. Nor will she ever have back problems and hey- guys stared at her face.

Total victory.


	2. Erica

In the past when summer hit Beacon Hills, Stiles and Scott spent their time trying to one-up each other in Mario Kart. It was stupid teenage fun and had not Scott been bitten by a werewolf last year, this summer would have been no different.

Erica cupped her hands around her mouth. "Derek, tear his head off!"

Woops followed that statement. Even Stiles gave an enthusiastic yell, because watching two werewolves go at it?  _Awesome_.

Scott and Derek stood against each other, their fangs bared and their eyes bright. They circled around slowly, their feet shuffling as they sized each other up. Before Stiles could even blink, Scott had shot forward, claws extended.

God, Stiles wished she brought popcorn. Hell, she wished she had the foresight to bring a bottle of water. Though she sat in the shade of a tree, California heat was not something to be taken lightly.

Erica, Boyd and Isaac appeared to be unaffected by the heat. None of them had sweat running down their heads, lucky dogs. They kept yelling their encouragements or their taunts at Derek and Scott, giving no heed Stiles was slowly melting next to them.

Huffing a bit, Stiles grabbed her shirt and slipped it over her head. Underneath she wore a white camisole, and it was a relief to let her skin breath. A little more comfortable now, she turned her attentions back to Scott and Derek.

The fight was over the moment Derek got his hand wrapped around Scott's throat. The alpha heaved Scott up and slammed him so hard against a tree, Scott turned back into a human.

Everyone gave a sympathetic pained, "Ooh..."

With a satisfied grin, Derek released Scott and turned to the group. "Who wants to try next?"

Erica suddenly became interested in her nails while Isaac and Boyd tried not to make eye contact. The joke went on a little too long and Stiles could see Derek getting agitated.

Stiles shot her hand up in the air. "I volunteer myself as tribute!"

She expected a laugh. Scott was still too much in pain to give even a chuckle, but at least he grinned. Derek didn't laugh. He didn't grin.

Instead he looked  _horrified_.

Stiles slowly lowered her hand, thinking she made a terrible mistake. Derek's face was distorted in his wolf form, yet Stiles could see red blooming across his cheeks and ears. Was Derek finally succumbing to heat exhaustion?

Finally, Derek snapped his head to Boyd and pointed. "Your turn. Get up."

Boyd groaned.

As Scott limped back to the group while Boyd took his place, Stiles leaned over to Erica and whispered, "What just happened?"

Erica grinned, showing off her canines. "Honey, look down."

Stiles glanced down. Sweat had slowly soaked her camisole and stuck to her skin. Though it was hard to see, the distinct shape and color of two tight dark nipples pointed out.

"Jesus Christ," Stiles hissed, grabbing the front of the camisole. She took her discarded shirt and shoved in front of her chest (because it was still too damn hot to put it back on) and pulled her knees up in front of her.

Scott flopped down next to her. "What's going on?"

Stiles said nothing while Erica and Isaac gave knowing smiles.


	3. Peter

At two o'clock in the morning, Stiles got a phone call. Reaching blindly in the dark, she pulled her cell towards her and answered.

"Mmm... 'ello...?"

"I need you to look up something for me." It was Derek.

Stiles could have cried. "Can't this wait? Like, tomorrow in the late afternoon? I just  _got_  to sleep."

"I'm sending a picture over now. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Her phones  _dings!_  the moment the picture arrived. Stiles considered not looking, considered just turning off her phone and going back to sleep, but she knew Derek would not have it. If he found her still in bed, he would probably boot her out.

With photo on hand, Stiles grumpily turned on her laptop.

As promised, twenty minutes later Derek was lighty tapping at her window. She opened it, shivering as cold air drifted in. This wasn't the first time Stiles had boys in her room (Scott crawled through her window at least once a week) but it was the first time she ever had Derek climb in. First time for Peter, too.

"Oh, what the hell!"

"He's with me," Derek gave as an explanation as his uncle wiggled his fingers at her. "Just show me what you got and we'll be out of here."

No please, no thank-you. Ungrateful prick. Groaning, Stiles rubbed her eyes to rid the leftover sleep and tried to keep her cool. From behind the heels of her hands, she heard Derek tack on, "Maybe you should put something on."

Stiles didn't know what he was talking about. It was not like she was  _nude_. She was in her pajamas, fucking  _Bugs Bunny_  was printed on them. What did he expect at two in the morning? "Huh?"

Even in this dim light Stiles could see the blush crawling on Derek's cheeks. He averted his eyes.

Peter, however, stared straight at her. "Nice," he said approvingly, earning himself a punch on the arm from Derek.

Stiles glanced down on herself. The cold air had made her nipples stiff and against her blue Bugs Bunny pajamas, they stood out like a hill on an open space of flatlands.

In the past Scott had made fun of her little breasts before. He was her best friend and she didn't care because she knew he never meant what he said. Having  _Peter_  make comment on her body was a whole different level of violation.

EW!

"Get out!" Stiles hissed, suddenly mortified. When Derek didn't move, she slapped him over and over on the shoulders. "Out! Out!"

"What about the picture?"

"Do it yourself you ass-hat! OUT!"

The moment both men were out of her room, she slammed the window shut, closed the blinds, and climbed into bed, burrowing herself in her blankets. Even from underneath her cocoon, she could hear them talk.

_"Why the hell did you say that?"_

_"They were cute. So sue me."_


	4. Allison

"Stiles, why haven't you and Scott ever dated?"

This was a question Stiles got a lot. It was understandable Allison would ask; she was Scott's girlfriend after all and it was natural for her to feel threatened by another female. But no matter how often Stiles told people she and Scott were just friends, very little had ever believed them. Even her dad still questioned her to this day.

"We're just friends," Stiles said. "Besides, it's hard to be attracted to a guy when you've seen them cry at the end of E.T."

Allison gaped. " _NO_."

"YES."

Truth be told, Stiles had no idea why she was here with Allison at the mall. She supposed this was a way for Allison to get closer with Scott: get close to his best friend.

So a few hours earlier Allison proposed a 'girls day out' and dragged Stiles up and down the mall all the live long day. After spending nearly three hours shopping, the only thing Stiles had to show was a new video game. Finally, just at the point where she was ready to call it quits, Allison piped up with, "Hey, what bra size do you wear?"

"Dunno."

"You don't know? How can you not know?"

Stiles made a face at her and arched her back, fingers pointed straight at her small chest. "Uh, I really have no need for a bra."

"Well, what are you wearing now?"

Stiles lifted up her shirt.

Allison gaped. "A training bra? You're wearing a  _training bra_?" She wagged her finger dramatically in Stiles' face. "No. No, no, no, no, no. You're way too old to be wearing something like that. C'mon. I'm taking you bra shopping."

A few minutes later, Stiles was in Victoria Secret, surrounded by every shade of pink in existence. She has never been in this store before and felt a little out of place. Everyone in the store was either older than her by five years or were two cups larger. Allison walked in with sure confidence, pulling Stiles behind her. "Let's find a store assistant to measure you... oh, excuse me, miss! Can you help us? My friend here is buying a new bra, can you measure her?"

The assistant looked Stiles over with a critical eye. Stiles wore nothing to imply she was bigger than she was and it was quite obvious she was quite flat-chested. The assistant pursed her lips for a second, then pulled out her measuring tape from around her neck. "Lift your arms."

As Stiles lifted her arms to allow the assistant to measure her, she suddenly felt like she was back in eighth grade. Back in the PE room where it was mandatory for the girls to measure themselves around the bust area before they were allowed to use the weights. Since it was just measurements, there was no need to separate the girls from the boys.

The teacher should have. The boys jeered and constantly asked the largest chested girls in the class what their measurements were. The not-so-quiet snickering was thrown Stiles' way. She was torn between feeling dejected and sexually harassed at the same time.

Though the store was filled with nothing but women, the ones who walked past gave Stiles' chest a disbelieving look.

The assistant pulled back. "Hmmm, I'm not sure if we have something in your size. But let me go check..."

Though Stiles knew this was an inevitable situation (she can't be buying training bras for the rest of her life) all she wanted to do was leave. But knowing Scott, he would love for Stiles and Allison to become besties.

Stiles sighed. She might as well try.

The assistant came back with three bras. "Here, let's try on these."

In the dressing room, Stiles stopped feeling like a seventh grader and started feeling like Goldylocks. The first bra was too big.

The second bra was too small around the torso. "I can't breathe!"

She wished the last one was "just right" but that was also too big. The cup stood so far out from her chest, her nipples never touched the fabric.

For the next ten minutes the assistant kept bringing Stiles bras and Stiles kept rejecting them. Allison tried to keep the encouragement up, but even she was being worn down. Stiles could see how smiling took a bit more effort, how the conversation dribbled off into uncomfortableness and slight boredom.

By the half hour mark, Stiles decided it was time to give up the ghost. It was not like she wanted to be here, anyways. "Allison, let's just go. I don't really need a bra."

Allison frowned at this. Stiles supposed deep down, Allison really wanted to help. "Are you sure?" She said. "They have something in your size, I know it."

"It's fine, let's just leave."

They gave the assistant a polite thank-you as they left the store. Stiles tried not to make eye contact while they passed, refusing to see the frustrated, annoyed look on that woman's face. It was the  _I can't believe you made me work this hard and now you're not going to BUY anything? What the fuck!_  face.

Once out of ear shot, Stiles cupped her tiny breasts. "Sorry, guys," she whispered to them.


	5. Jackson

The walls of the school were dotted with pink bows, pink banners with pink font stating in bold, "SAVE THE TATAS!"

Some of the more cruder students had crossed those words out and replaced them with 'Save the titties' and 'Nuke the Whales!' The school took down all three banners and replaced them with the simple pink-colored bow. To get volunteers, a few teachers were willing to give extra bonus points to anyone dressed in pink and help pass out flyers.

Stiles was pretty sure that was also the wrong way to raise awareness. Scott's mother taught Scott the importance of mammograms and he wore his pink bow with true sincerity. But a good deal of the student body didn't give two hoots and only wanted the points.

Thus, Jackson.

"Coming to the meeting tonight, Stiles?" Jackson asked, shoving a flyer under her face. "If you do, I get an extra ten points from Miss Myers."

"Uh..." Stiles was actually planning to stay home. Tonight was one of her dad's days off and she wanted to cook him dinner. "Sorry, I have other plans."

"Really? I'm surprised. I thought you of all people would want to go to this."

This wasn't the first time today someone tried to guilt trip Stiles to come to the meeting, but it was Jackson's wording that made her give pause. "What do you mean,  _you of all people_?"

"You had breast cancer at some point, right? I mean, that's why you have no tits."

Jackson never saw her right hook.


	6. Dad

A week after Stiles got her first period, her dad pulled her aside and sat her down at the kitchen table to talk to her.

He clearly was uncomfortable and it made Stiles squirm, thinking she had done something wrong. Maybe he knew about the worms she hid in her sock drawer. Maybe he knew about the beer she hid under her bed. Or maybe he knew how the dent on his police cruiser came to be.

"Kiddo," her dad started. "Are you Scott getting along just fine?"

Now that was a strange question. Scott was coming over right now. Her dad knew that, so why-? "Yeah."

He nodded. "It's just... well, now that you're a woman, I feel a little uncomfortable of you being around Scott."

"What? Why?"

"He's a boy, you're a girl, and soon enough he's going to start looking at you differently-"

"Dad! This is  _Scott_  we're talking about. Okay? He's not going to treat me differently because of..." she waved her hand vaguely over her body. "This."

"How do you know?"

And as if on cue, the front doorbell rang. "Perfect timing," said Stiles, hopping off the chair and trotting over to the door. She opened it, revealing Scott who smiled at her.

She then pulled up her shirt and flashed him.

Scott screamed. " _DUDE_!" He slapped his hands over his eyes and wretched his face away. "What the hell, man! I don't want to see  _that_!"

Stiles lowered her shirt and glanced over to her dad.

Her dad put his face into his hands and shook his head.


	7. Lydia

For many years, Stiles thought she was a lesbian.

Who could blame her? Not when the incredible, intelligent, amazing, beautiful Lydia Martin was in this world. Even her name, Ly-dee-ahh, was a pleasure to pronounce. It ended in  _ahhhh_. That meant something.

"No."

Stiles' smile melted off her face and slowly, she retracted her hand away. Held between finger and thumb, were two movie tickets for  _The Avengers_. Lydia didn't even give Stiles a chance to ask if she wanted to go. "I could exchange them for something else," Stiles said. Myabe Lydia didn't like The Avengers. "Hell, we don't have to go to the movies. I know this restaurant-"

Lydia suddenly slammed her locker shut, making Stiles jump from the noise. "Stiles," Lydia twisted on her. "For a while, I thought it was cute, your little hero worship of me. But you have to accept it: I'm not gay."

"Nor am I bi," she quickly added when Stiles tried to suggest it. "And even if I was, I would rather go out with an  _actual_  girl, breasts and all."

People have said many cruel things about Stiles' body. They wondered out loud if she ever went through puberty. They spread rumors that Stiles was actually a boy and prevented her from entering the girl's locker room. They threw old bras at her head.

She didn't care. Stiles loved her body. She loved her totally awesome metabolism. She loved the muscle definition on her arms. She loved her tiny boobies, thank you very much. She was not ashamed.

Stiles experienced much bullshit for her body, but this was the very first time she felt the urge to cover herself.

Lydia suddenly flinched, realizing what she had just said. She closed her eyes and backtracked. "I'm sorry," she said, opening her eyes. "God, that's so... I'm sorry, Stiles. That was mean of me. There's nothing wrong with your body."

"...it's okay."

"No, it's..." Lydia sighed. Frankly, Stiles was a little surprised Lydia even bothered to apologized. Admitting she was wrong probably took a herculean amount of effort. "If I kiss you, will you forgive me?"

Stiles' heart sped up. Was she serious? "Yes! God, yes!"

She should tone down the enthusiasm. Lydia lightly winced at Stiles' happy face, considered backing out for a second there, then dashed forward, giving a tiny peck on Stiles' lips.

Anybody could see it was a crappy kiss, it was the type of kiss you gave to your grandmother on New Years day, and yet Stiles  _swooned_.

She gave a little sigh of contentment, then promptly fainted.

When she woke up fifteen minutes later in the nurse's office with Scott standing over her, the very first thing she said was, "Lydia Martin kissed me."

Scott smiled at her. "Congratulations."


	8. Scott

Scott sometimes forgot Stiles was a girl.

Really. For the longest time Stiles didn't know if her best friend was just an oblivious, lovable idiot or if he was blind as a bat. Maybe both.

Like on his fourteenth birthday, when Mrs. McCall took them all out to a fancy dinner, Stiles had worn a white and red summer dress. When she showed up at the restaurant, Scott gaped and said, "Dude... I forgot that you weren't a  _dude_!" Stiles was grateful when Mrs. McCall slapped him across the head.

Or that time Stiles had started her period early and had not noticed. Not until Scott pointed it out. Loudly. In class.

"MR. HARRIS, CALL 911, STILES IS BLEEDING!"

He meant well, that moron. But at the end of the day, Scott was still a teenage boy- a  _horny_  teenage boy- and tended to say things he would never say if he remembered Stiles was of the female variety.

"I want to touch boobs."

Stiles nearly knocked her head on the ceiling of her fridge. She pulled back, soda in hand, gaping at Scott, who was too busy looking on dreamily in his boob-filled fantasy to realize what he just said.

"Dude!" Stiles said.

"I think Christina grew an extra size this year," Scott continued, still oblivious. "Have you seen them? They're huge."

Of course Stiles has seen them. She and Christina had the same gym class and Stiles saw her huge knockers practically everyday. Stiles wondered how Scott would react if she told him Christina hated her big breasts because her back constantly hurt.

Stiles was willing to let this go. It wasn't the first time Scott said something inappropriate. Then Scott started miming things with his  _hands_  and finally, Stiles had enough. She walked over, slammed her soda can down in front, making him jump. "DUDE."

It was amazing how much got across with one simple word. Scott immediately withdrew his hands onto his lap, and an embarrassed flush bloomed on his cheeks. "Sorry," he said.

Stiles held her angry look for a second longer, released it and flopped down in the chair next to Scott. "Why do you want to touch boobs all of a sudden?"

Scott shrugged. "Nothing... it's just locker room talk. You hear so much and suddenly... it was all I could think about." He threw her a side look. "You know how hard that is?"

"What, thinking?"

"I am insulted, but yes. Thinking anything else  _but_  boobs. God, even now, I can't stop. It's annoying!"

"Poor baby," Stiles said, unsympathetically. Seeing how miserable Scott looked, she threw back her head and groaned. "Okay, okay, fine." She put down her soda and reached over and grabbed Scott's hands.

Scott let her, though confused. "Stiles, what-"

Stiles shoved Scott's hands up her shirt, right on her breasts.

Red  _exploded_  over Scott's face and he tried to tug back. Stiles wouldn't let him. "You need a fix, Scott," Stiles said. "I'm your fix."

"But Stilllllllllles...! This isn't... I mean, you're..."

"Dude, look at this way: now you can say you touched boobs. Tiny, non-exsistent ones, but boobs. I'm a girl, it still counts."

She pulled her hands away, leaving Scott's still on her chest. He looked like he wanted to argue, but at the end of the day: horny teenager.

He pulled away a full minute later. He stared at his hands like he's never seen them before. Stiles went back to her soda, unaffected and a little bored. She could see Scott grinning lightly despite he tried to hide his face.


	9. Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dub-con situations

The very first time Derek looked upon Stiles' breasts, it was an accident.

The thing about Stiles and Scott, despite they were two different people, they spent so much time around each other they developed their own scent. It happened sometimes with spouses, best friends and soul mates. Derek really should have recognized it earlier, knowing that without Stiles, there would be no Scott. It was ridiculous for Derek to try to talk to them separated in the beginning.

Derek was no genius. He'd got average scores in school, had average intelligence. He didn't think himself as an idiot, but he could admit he had his moments of forgetfulness. That said, he should be forgiven for overlooking the girl's locker room sign when he walked in, expecting to find Scott.

Instead, he found Stiles.

She was right in the middle of switching out shirts. Her arms were already above her head, her elbows entangled with fabric. Her naked torso was in full view as she struggled to get the shirt off.

From where Derek stood, he could see the outline of her ribs, the smooth long plane of her white belly, and the small patch of hair she had missed shaving on one arm pit. Derek's eyes however, were right on her chest.

He has never seen soft nipples on a girl before. They were always erect, harden by excitement, touch, or cold. This was the very first time he's seen them relaxed, soft and smooth as the rest of her.

Stiles was still having issues with her shirt. The more she struggled, the more the skin stretched. Then slowly, Derek watched those little brown nipples harden, tightening into stiff nubs, ready to be sucked on.

With a gasp, Stiles finally wrenched her head out of her shirt. Before she could move her head and see Derek standing _right there_ , he finally jerked himself out of his stupor and threw himself to the side, out of sight.

He hid till Stiles was long gone. By then, Derek had forgotten why he came to the school for.

 

 

 

 

 

Was it bad that during the whole time Derek and Stiles were in the pool, hiding from the kanima, Derek was constantly aware of Stiles' nipples pressing against his back?

Yeah, there was a creature of legend trying to kill them. Yeah, Derek was as helpless as a newborn pup. But he couldn't exactly ignore Stiles grunting, groaning, moaning behind him as those two little perky nipples rubbed against into his shoulder.

Yeah, it probably was bad.

 

 

 

 

 

Peter knew. Of course Peter knew because that bastard knew everything for some strange reason. Derek could only wish to be that observant.

Usually such information was not going to harm him. Derek was not some blushing, sixteen year old kid anymore. He could say the word _penis_ and _breast_ without giggling. Trying to torture him with this tiny little attraction was juvenile.

Derek should have known Peter would go down that road regardless if it was five year old humor or not.

"Her nipples are so cute."

Derek had been in the middle of using the computer, trying to gain a better understanding how to use Microsoft Word and use it to update his knowledge on mythical creatures. For some strange reason he couldn't get all of his notes un-italicized, and it was driving him mad.

The moment Peter said that, Derek bit his tongue, and his fingers smashed randomly onto the keyboard.

' _lsdkhfvoidnvloeih_ '.

"What?" Derek choked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You _know_ what I'm talking about," Peter said, sneering. "Cute little Stiles and her cute little tits."

"Stop talking. Oh my god, please stop talking."

Peter leaned against Derek's chair, and Derek could feel Peter's arms pressing against his back. "I've seen the way you look at her, dear nephew. Sure, she's annoying, but she has potential to be so much more. All you need to do is draw it out."

The embarrassment Derek felt drained away as suspicion and fury replaced it. He pulled away from his computer, standing up, allowing his height and red eyes to speak for him. Peter naturally took a step back, but showed no other signs of submission. "What are you talking about?" Derek growled.

Derek didn't like Peter when he was around Stiles. He didn't like the way Peter looked at her, talked to her, how he interacted with her. Peter enjoyed cleverness and certainly Stiles was most cleverer one in Scott's group. Knowing Peter had an eye on her made Derek's heckles raise.

"Where Scott goes, Stiles will follow," Peter said. "Where Stiles goes, Scott will follow. If you want Scott, get Stiles."

Derek gritted his teeth. "She doesn't want to be a werewolf."

"I am not suggesting you turn her into a werewolf. _Seduce her,_ Derek. Make her yours."

"I am not seducing Stiles for my own means! That's... creepy!"

Peter shrugged. "I honestly don't see the problem here," he said, walking away. "You like her. And the girl's not blind. She would have eventually come around."

Derek grabbed the wireless mouse and tossed it at Peter's head.

 

 

 

 

 

Not even Derek could predict how playful Erica would become after getting the bite. It gave her confidence to move, to speak, to express herself. It was actually quite a sight to behold, to watch someone _bloom_ into the person they always wanted to be.

It was certainly no secret she liked Stiles. Sometimes when Stiles was hunched over her laptop, aggressively typing away, Erica would come up right behind her, and purposefully drape her huge breasts on top of Stiles' head.

"Um..." Stiles said, her head leaning against the weight. "Why."

Scott was delightfully embarrassed by the sight, his eyes darting back and forth from the desk to them, smiling gleefully.

Erica stared down at Stiles' head as if she could see through her own breasts. "Do you wear a bra?"

Stiles' jerked, slapping away Erica's boobs. "Oh my god! Is everyone obsessed with me getting a bra? I literally do not care about bras!"

"I'm just curious," Erica pouted. "I don't meet girls as tiny as you. Tell me, are they _sensitive_?"

And with that, she suddenly reached under Stiles' arms, grabbed hold of her small breasts and pinched her nipples roughly through her shirt.

Stiles' took in a sharp heady breath.

Immediately Scott was on his feet, pushing Erica away. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, not cool!" He snapped at her.

"I was just playing," Erica said. She had her hands up in surrender, backing away.

"No," Derek said, stepping down from his spot by the window and going towards them. "Scott's right, that went too far. Go, you got running drills for the rest of the night."

"But I-"

"GO."

Maybe later Erica would come to the realization what she did was wrong. At the moment, she was more upset that she was being punished. Once she was gone, Derek turned to Stiles and asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Stiles said. She was rubbing her palms over her chest in small circles. "I just wished she didn't pinch so hard."

 

 

 

 

 

That night, Derek jerked himself off to the memory of Stiles' breathy gasp, of her own hands touching herself. However, the guilt of knowing Stiles didn't enjoy it, didn't want it, kept him from reaching the end for nearly a half hour.

 

 

 

 

 

"Why isn't Stiles your girlfriend?"

Derek didn't want to ask this question. It made him feel like a giggly teenager again, not the grown man he was. But the question had been at the back of his mind since day one. He might as well just get it over with.

Scott threw him a look. "Because Stiles is my _bro_."

"She's a girl. Don't you mean your _sis_?"

"No, I mean my _bro_. I've known her since we were kids. We grew up with each other."

"What's the difference?"

Scott considered that. "I dunno. I once touched her breasts. I don't think you would touch your sister's breasts."

Derek choked. Wait, what. What. WHAT. "You touched Stiles' _breasts_?"

"Yeah, man. It was no big deal. In fact, she was the one who practically shoved my hands on her."

Scott gave no further elaboration, no further explanation. He said it as if it were an everyday occurrence, as if fondling your best friend's chest was something all friends do.

"It was actually really great," Scott continued wistfully. "They were so soft. Her nipples weren't even hard, and they felt like marshmallows right before they turned into chocolate chips under my palms."

Derek gaped, the mental image too much to handle. _Chocolate chips._

"I'm hungry," Scott said, suddenly shifting gears. "You wanna get something to eat? There's a McDonald's down the street."

And just like that, the conversation was gone and Derek had no idea how to bring it back.

 

 

 

 

 

Derek was actually quite surprised it took as long as it did for Stiles to admit to her father of the supernatural. He understood why, of course, but he was sure after Melissa found out, Stilinski would be soon to follow.

"You know, Derek, as a father, you suddenly view the world as a very dangerous place."

Oh god. Was the Sheriff really going to do the whole Papa Bear thing? _With him_? Stillinski wasn't Argent, he had no leverage. Instead of saying that, Derek chose to say, "Yes, sir."

Stilinski wasn't even in uniform. Derek had just opened his door and voila, there Stilinski stood in a plaid shirt and tan trousers. He didn't even bring his gun. "And having a daughter like Stiles... I once caught her eating dirt because she wanted to know what it was like to be a plant."

"Oh. Well, toddlers tend to-"

"She was thirteen."

"Oh... um..." Derek had no answer for that.

"Stiles is the type of gal who wears her emotions on her sleeves. She's smart enough to keep herself from being manipulated. But when that manipulation comes from people you trust, you'd be surprised how easy it is to crush somebody."

"Sir," Derek said, holding up his hand to stop him. "I don't know why you're even talking to me. Stiles and I are barely friends."

Not entirely true. Stiles was smart. Brave. And frankly, Derek was quite relieved to know she had refused Peter's bite. He didn't like the idea of Stiles as Peter's beta. Those two together? Sass would rain upon them for years.

"She does talk about you a lot," Stilinski said.

"Because of my affiliation to _Scott_. In fact... you should be talking to Scott about this, not me! _He's_ the one who touched her breasts!"

Oh God, Derek was a goddamn idiot.

Stilinski's eyes grew wide. "He did WHAT?"

 

 

 

 

 

With his mother as his alpha, Derek learned from an early age women were just as deadly as men. He learned to not to underestimate them, not unless he wanted to get his ass kicked.

Allison Argent was a threat. With her skills and her family background, she could be running this town if she wanted to. Don't anger the girl who can wield a bow and arrow whilst wearing high heels.

Lydia was a threat. Derek has seen her grades, and knew universities have been offering her scholorships since the age of _twelve_. Added with her supernatural psychic abilities, her thirst for knowledge could unlock magicks and abilities haven't seen on this plane of existence for centuries.

Though Stiles was resourceful and fast on her feet, she was not Lydia, and she was not Allison. She was too clumsy, too distracted, too _loud_ to be a threat.

So when Derek saw Stiles coming at him, red in face, steam coming out of her ears, and her little fists trembling at her side, he suddenly changed his mind about her and wanted to dive for cover.

"What the hell, Derek? Seriously, what the _hell_?"

Derek immediately backed away from her. "What? What?"

"It seems _somebody_ gave my father the impression that Scott and I are having SEX!"

Aw, great. "I didn't tell him that!"

"Then what the hell did you tell him?" Stiles fumed. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Because it wasn't any of your fucking business!"

"Look, it was an accident, okay? I'm sorry. But this was going to happen either way, because it felt like your dad was trying to imply there was something going on between you and _me_."

Stiles stared at him for a second, then huffed and said, "Oh man, my dad does that to every guy I have ever met. I think he believes I have orgies when he's not looking. That's not even possible. I mean, you have to be _popular_ to have orgies!"

"You can't exactly _blame_ him," Derek said, crossing his arms. "Your relationship with Scott is beyond normal."

"Beyond normal? He's a _werewolf_! This is Beacon Hills! 'Normal' hasn't been part of the criteria in years. And secondly, once again, it's none of your damn business what I do with Scott. Nor is it my dad's. If I want Scott to touch my breasts, that's my decision. You don't get to judge."

Derek knew that. Of course he knew that. You don't grow up in a house full of women and not know that. Both of his alphas were women, he should fucking know better.

"You're right," Derek said, stomping down the need to protest. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Stiles kept staring at him as if she didn't believe him. "Okay. Good," she said, turning to leave. "I'll let you go and do... whatever you were doing before."

"Yeah, okay."

"Oh, and one more thing."

Derek turned around to face her.

She flashed him.


End file.
